Tragic Misunderstandings
by Linda4HIM59
Summary: This story is my idea of what would happen to our wonderful couple if a series of bizarre misunderstandings occurred. It has some of everything - sadness, comfort, humor, and joy. It's the idea that anyone can fall prey to a misunderstanding if they are not careful.
1. Prologue

_AN: This story begins differently than a story I would normally write. It was born from two things, a comment by Joe himself, where he said his idea for a reunion movie would be that M&S had 'grown apart', divorced, and were living apart from each other. That, of course, was unacceptable to me. But one day a comment was posted in a thread __on the US forum_ about the second movie, where a member mentioned that she hated the end of the movie because it left us with a vision of an 'inconsolable Michaela'. That struck a chord with me. If she was inconsolable...even beyond her wonderful Sully's power to comfort her, then...

_So now, I present..._

* * *

**TRAGIC MISUNDERSTANDINGS**

**By Linda Ellen**

January 2014

_Even the most magnificent of loves, the most remarkable joining of hearts, can fall prey to a misunderstanding if they are not careful. Be diligent, lest the unthinkable happen..._

**PROLOGUE**

On a high cliff in a picturesque setting, a lone figure stood staring down at the majestic waterfall and the sparkling water of the large pond into which it fell.

Waterfalls reminded him of her. As did standing on the edge of a cliff. As did the shrill call of a hawk to its mate...

Everything reminded him of _her_.

He swallowed, gritting his teeth against the now familiar pain...the pain of the memories, the longing...the love he had thought was a gift from the spirits. The song of his heart he had thought would never end.

Some days were worse than others. Some days the agony was more than he could bear and all he wanted to do was hole up in a cave somewhere wallowing in his misery. Some days he could go about his work, concentrate on his responsibilities, and not have something unexpected cause his breath to catch, his eyes to fill, and to suffer that feeling of a giant hand reaching inside his chest and squeezing his heart – like it was doing just then. Some days he could almost function. He could almost breathe.

But the nights. _Oh the nights._ They were still torture. Not once in all this time had he actually gotten a full night's sleep. Not once had he enjoyed the beauty of Yellowstone, or being one with nature and sleeping under the stars, as he had before he knew _her_.

She haunted him. Her face, her eyes, her voice, her scent, her touch...and the memories of thousands of nights of the most incredible loving any couple could ever experience together. Standing there, he truly didn't know how much longer he could go on without some relief - without something changing.

But it was beyond his control.

He had prayed to the spirits many times over the months, and even tried performing a vision quest, but it was like they had turned their backs on him and refused to answer his agonized pleas. He felt alone and bereft – more so than he ever had, because now he knew what he was _missing_. He had gone from being the happiest man on earth to the most miserable soul to ever draw breath. His arms ached to hold her. His lips longed to meld with hers. He wanted so badly to hear her voice again call his name in that special way that only she could. But above all that, his soul felt empty, left in shambles as if its most essential part had been savagely ripped away.

_Nothing can take her place. Nothing ever will._ That thought made a shiver course through his body, in spite of the sunshine bearing down on his head and the warmth of his buckskin jacket.

The beauty of the waterfall faded from his sight as images arose to the forefront of his mind and he allowed himself the pleasure and pain of reminiscing. The sight of her beautiful hair flowing in the breeze as she ran, laughing, and he pursued...the image of her lying beneath him, her eyes so full of desire, as he made passionate love to her...the memory of her holding their daughter, nursing her at her breast, and the look of amazement she sent him as their eyes met...pictures of her standing proud in front of one crowd or another, delivering a heartfelt plea, her beauty, her passion and poise breathtaking to behold...

Who knows how long he stood there, staring down unseeing at the roiling water below. The rustling of the wind in the leaves was not needed to cover the sound of silent feet approaching. Another lone figure stopped within reach, staring at the buckskin covered back, and wondering why his presence was not immediately acknowledged. Puzzled, the figure smiled indulgently.

"Haho, my brother," a very familiar voice murmured from just a few feet behind him. Sully sucked in a breath and whirled to find the beloved face of Cloud Dancing smiling that familiar serene and heart-warming smile.

"What are you doin' here?" Sully rasped, even as he stepped forward and enveloped his brother in a fierce, almost desperate hug.

Cloud Dancing returned the embrace, momentarily clasping his younger brother tightly in his arms before stepping back to gaze into the familiar blue eyes. The Indian's smile immediately faded, however, when he saw up close the same thing he had seen in his vision. He had hoped and prayed that the vision had been wrong, but quite obviously it had not been. The medicine man's eyes now took in the condition of the man who was closer to him than any brother. Sully's sky blue eyes were bloodshot, their expression one of acute agony. His hair was long and straggly, as if he had totally stopped caring about it, and even contained wisps of gray. His beard had grown long and wild. His clothes were dirty, stained, and ripped in places – and hung loose on his frame. Cloud Dancing was greatly alarmed, and he wondered why the spirits had not spoken to him sooner, before things had gotten this bad for his friend.

Schooling his features, the Cheyenne spoke softly, "The spirits told me in a dream that I was to find you. They sent me here. They told me that you are hurting..." he paused as Sully closed his eyes and turned his head. Gripping his friend's arms, Cloud Dancing urged him to meet his eyes. This time they were guarded with self-preservation. "What has happened, my brother?"

Sully clamped his lips, unsure if he could even talk about it without breaking down - and right then, the last thing he needed was to break down again, for he wasn't sure he would have any strength left afterwards. But he knew if he opened his mouth, Cloud Dancing would see through any ruse.

"When Dorothy and I saw you before the snows fell, and I questioned you about the sadness in your eyes, you told me you had been unwell. When I pressed you for more, you would not speak of it. When we were last in Colorado Springs, Loren Bray said that you are often away on work for your government...what is it, Sully? Why are you away so often?"

Sully shut his eyes once more, his control over his emotions crumbling like dust. Oh why did Cloud Dancing have to pick a day to come and find him when he was at the bottom of the well? When the pendulum of his emotions was at the farthest swing?

"Sully! Has something happened to Michaela? To Katie, or Brian?" the concerned Indian demanded, giving his friend's arms a firm shake.

Finally, Sully took in a deep breath and opened his eyes, meeting the black, piercing gaze of his friend. What Cloud Dancing saw then in the blue depths made him suck in a breath. Never had he seen such pain in those eyes - not even when they had first met so long ago, when Sully had been at the end of his rope, half dead in the woods and mourning his tragic action and the death of his first wife and child.

Swallowing dryly, Sully opened his mouth, but at first no words came. Then hoarsely, he whispered, "Michaela...she sent me away."


	2. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

Michaela stood staring out the window of her lavish office in the new hospital – an office filled with beautiful furniture handcrafted by her loving husband. Her gaze perused the lovely garden with its wrought iron benches. For a moment, she pictured Sully out there, working hard to create the space...for _her_...so that she could have a place to come to during a hectic day at the hospital, _to rest her spirit_, he'd said. Throughout the summer, she had sat many times on one of the benches, staring up at the Peak and enjoying the breeze ruffling the fragrant, colorful flowers that had surrounded the elaborate plaque in the center.

But now they had all wilted. They matched her mood.

Her eyes touching the side of the plaque, she didn't have to see it to know the words. It was as if they were engraved on her heart...

COLORADO SPRINGS MEMORIAL HOSPITAL

Dedicated May 1881

To the memory of the late Elizabeth Ann Weston Quinn.

A woman of substance, strength, gentle tenderness,

generosity, and love.

She loved lavishly.

This facility is the final example of that love.

The daughter drew in a breath, grateful that the smothering melancholia triggered by her mother's passing had finally lifted. But it wasn't just Elizabeth's death; it had been a combination of so many things in her life radically changing in the space of a few weeks. Brian staying in Boston to work at the Globe...Colleen and Andrew staying in Boston to operate their own practice – forcing Michaela to give up her long-held dream of Colleen coming to work with her at the clinic...

Added to that, in the midst of that terrible first year, her own body had begun its 'change' – and it hadn't been the sort of _'Spring has sprung'_ experience Dorothy had enjoyed. No, for Michaela, it had been as if her whole personality was slowly being altered – and it had only magnified the expression of her grief. She had thought at first that her dream of giving Sully another child had finally come true – until reality had cruelly ripped that dream away. As a physician, she understood that the combined trauma had propelled her into experiencing the early symptoms of menopause. But as a woman, she had been so immersed within the discomfort and the subsequent feeling of helplessness of the unavoidable process, that she hadn't been able to even broach the subject with Sully. On the contrary, she had pushed him away.

The memory of that made her grit her teeth in self-loathing. She had counseled other women in the same situation, when they had told her they felt 'less of a woman'. She had told them, emphatically, that wasn't so – but when she experienced it herself, it was exactly how she felt. Less than a woman, because now she had no more hope of bearing more of Sully's children...

When the melancholia had finally lifted, in its place, a feeling of loss had taken up residence; so profound it took every ounce of strength she possessed to carry on with her duties, and to present to the world at large her 'Dr. Quinn' persona. To function, make decisions, raise her daughter, and not allow people to see past the façade to the decimated and achingly empty woman inside. Decimated to the point that she wondered how much longer she could keep up the appearance that everything was all right with her world.

_He left me..._she pondered for what must have been the millionth time. _I still can't believe it. Sully walked out of my life – and Katie's too. _Deep down, Michaela knew she was to blame, knew the words she had screamed at her husband that terrible night had been totally irrational and she hadn't meant one of them – the same way she hadn't meant the cruel things she had yelled at him that night so long ago when the barn had caught on fire. The shame she felt magnified the hurt to the point of blinding, searing agony. _I never thought this could happen to us. We clung together through storms, Indian attacks, abductions, injuries, sickness, threat of prison and death. He called me his 'heartsong'. He was my best friend, my confidant and staunchest supporter...my only lover. He promised he would love me 'all his days'...but he left me. Without a word. Without so much as a goodbye..._

Wondering again where he had gone, she longed to go look for him, the way she had when he'd been missing those long, hard days after his fall from the cliff. But she couldn't, she had no one to care for Katie. No, that wasn't true. She had lied to herself so long she had almost forgotten the real truth – that she couldn't bear for anyone to know her shame. She couldn't stand the mere thought of anyone whispering behind her back that she wasn't 'woman enough' to keep him. She hadn't written to Rebecca. She couldn't even ask Matthew to come from Denver, nor could she recruit friends like Hank or Loren or Daniel to go look for him, as she wouldn't endure the look of pity that would surely show in their eyes.

No one knew. She had made sure of that. She had a litany of excuses she regularly served up to anyone who might ask Sully's whereabouts. "He's working." "He got in yesterday, but he's worn out and has to leave again in a few days." "He's on another assignment." Hazily, she wondered about herself, abstractly thinking that Sully's time of hiding from the army had changed something within her and had caused her conscience to become somewhat calloused in regard to always speaking the absolute truth. Even to her own daughter, she had become adept at the lies. "Your papa will be home soon, sweetheart. Something is just keeping him longer than he planned."

But somehow she suspected that Katie saw through the ruse. Katie and Sully had always been so close, even more so after her kidnapping. The little girl knew something was wrong, her papa would never stay away from her without so much as a telegram, but the only other person she trusted above all others – her mother – didn't seem to want to tell her the truth.

Raising her eyes to the magnificent view of Pike's Peak that Sully had thoughtfully made sure her office window afforded, Michaela sighed mournfully. _Where are you, Sully? Will you ever come back to me? To us? Don't you know how much we need you...how much __I__ need you? I want so badly to tell you I'm sorry for the things I said... _

Taking in another breath, however, Michaela's stubborn Irish streak decided to kick in with a thought of its own. _But you never came back after our argument. You never gave me the chance. You broke your promises to me. You broke your vows... _For an entire, long, agonizing week after their terrible fight, she had felt that she should seek him out and apologize, the way she had so long ago after that fierce argument. But stubbornly, she had not. The words he had flung back to her had stung, hitting too close to home. It was only afterwards - when she realized that he had left for parts unknown - that she had come to her senses, staggeringly wondering what 'force' had had her so tightly in its grip that she had been blinded to everything around her for so very long. Perhaps in a backhanded way, Sully's constant care and patience had 'enabled' her to continue in her downward spiral, her descent only arrested by his absence. She'd longed for him to come back so that she could tell him she was sorry, but he was just...gone.

The days had turned into weeks, and then months, but he had never returned. More than once, she had started toward the telegraph office to send a telegram to Welland Smith, just to see if he knew Sully's whereabouts. But always at the last minute, she changed her mind, afraid that her husband had told his superior not to let on. And also...Horace would know that she had no idea where her husband was...

Mist clouded her eyes then as she allowed herself the pleasure, and the exquisite aching emptiness - of thinking of him...visualizing him with the breeze ruffling his hair as he rode a horse...the way he held his cup as he drank his coffee...his special smile, reserved just for her...the blue of his eyes on a bright summer day...the smooth warmth of his lips as they melded with hers...the image of him as he hovered above her, the firelight in their bedroom glimmering warmly on his skin as he made sweet love to her...but that was so long ago...

"Ma? Are...are you all right?" a small, sweet voice asked softly.

Michaela stirred from her thoughts and quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks. Curling the fingers of one hand into a tight fist, so tightly that her nails dug into her palm, Michaela plastered a smile on her face and turned to view her daughter.

Katie, standing in the doorway of her mother's office, looked more like her father with every passing year. Michaela's eyes caressed her daughter's sweet face and dark honey blonde hair, which had begun to turn darker and more like each of her parents. Her features were without a doubt as delicate as her mother's, yet her eyes, though dark brown, contained that 'Sully' spark, and she possessed her father's long thick eyelashes and his heart-melting smile. She had also inherited his innate sense and understanding of the feelings of others. For that, Michaela was both grateful and wary. She must, at all costs, keep her daughter from being hurt – for as long as she possibly could.

"Hello, sweetheart," she answered brightly. "Yes, I'm fine. Did you have a good day at school?"

"Yeah..." ten year old Katie answered with a bit of hesitation. Preoccupied as she was, Michaela picked up on it.

"What is it sweetheart? Come, sit with me," she added, gesturing toward the chair next to her desk as she sank down into her own.

Katie obediently obliged, plopping her schoolbooks down on the corner of the desk and throwing herself discouragingly onto the chair.

Closely examining her daughter's expression, Michaela suddenly suspected what had occurred. It wasn't the first time. "Do you want to tell me about it?" she asked softly.

Katie bit down on her lip and cast her gaze away from her mother's sad countenance, only to land on the framed photo on the desk. It was the last photograph taken of them as a family, Ma, Colleen, Matthew, Brian, herself...and their Pa. He was smiling that smile she remembered and holding her tightly on his lap.

Looking back to meet her mother's eyes, she whispered, "The other kids...they were saying things about Pa again..."

Michaela swallowed, preparing herself for another session of reassuring her daughter on a subject about which she herself was excruciatingly unsure. "What things, sweetheart?"

"B...Billy and Harold, they said that Pa left us for some girl of the line in Denver. I told 'em that was a lie, but they just kept on and on," she whined, her eyes filling, one tear spilling from each and tracking slowly down her cheeks. Michaela immediately opened her arms and the little girl scrambled from her chair and into her mother's embrace.

"I'm so sorry, my darling. Children can be so cruel," Michaela whispered, pressing her lips to her daughter's hair and blinking away tears as she looked toward the ceiling, as if it would afford her some wisdom to impart. "Don't pay any attention to them, they're only repeating unfounded gossip..."

"Ma...what's a 'girl of the line'?" Katie sniffed, wiping tears with one hand as she leaned back enough to see Michaela's face. "It's like a saloon lady, isn't it? Like at the Gold Nugget?" The child bit her lip as an image of her wonderful father laughing, dancing and cavorting in the arms of a brashly painted saloon girl came to her mind.

Michaela's eyes widened in surprise at the question, but she quickly controlled her reaction, refusing to even imagine such a scenario. "Yes, Katie. But you know better than to let the teasing of the other children make you upset. You know your father loves you, don't you?" she paused, waiting for her daughter to acknowledge that fact with a nod. "He loves you so much. And any day now, he'll be riding in on his horse and tell us all about his adventures," Michaela crooned in practiced sincerity, wishing fervently that she believed it herself.

For Katie, the memories of _that night_ came again as they had a hundred times before...her parents voices raised in anger...her own tears of confusion and uncertainty as she hid underneath her covers...the jarring of her nerves as she heard him stomp down the stairs and slam the door. She had never known her father to be so angry, and had even entertained the thought that the argument may have had something to do with her. "Will he, Mama?" Katie whispered now, more tears spilling from her dark eyes.

Unable to meet those trusting eyes another second; Michaela closed hers and drew her daughter back into her arms, pressing her face against her breast. "I hope so, sweetheart," she admitted in a whisper. The two sat thus together, rocking slowly back and forth and drawing strength from one another, until a polite clearing of a throat was heard.

Michaela's eyes popped opened to see Grace standing uncertainly at the door to the office. The look in her eyes told Michaela that she had overheard at least the last part of the conversation. Michaela steeled herself for a grilling.

True to form, the café owner bustled forward, smiling lovingly at her Godchild as she leaned down to her level. "Katie girl, I brought the nurses a plate 'a cookies. They're your favorite – chocolate with pecans. Why don't you run along and get you some?"

Sniffling and wiping her eyes and nose on the hanky her mother handed her, the child disengaged herself from Michaela's clasp and nodded, walking to the door. Looking back at the carefully blank faces of the two women, she paused, and then disappeared down the hall.

Grace stepped close and closed the door with a click. Then turning, she surveyed the haggard appearance of her friend. Over the months, Grace had grown used to Michaela always appearing tired and stressed, but she had just assumed it was the added pressure and responsibility of the new hospital – and the seemingly unending absences of her soul mate. Now, her suspicion piqued, the Creole beauty stepped close and crossed her arms over her chest.

Piercing Michaela with that no-nonsense glare that only she could accomplish, Grace blurted, "Docta Mike, what's goin' on?"

"Grace, I don't know what you me..." Michaela began, but Grace quickly raised a hand to interrupt. "I _mean_..." she clarified with her trademark sass, tossing her head and clamping her hands on her hips. "You been tellin' _everybody_ that Sully's away on _business_ and that when he comes _home_, he stays out at the homestead with you and Katie and then leaves again. But..." she paused, searching her friend's face and now able to tell clearly that Michaela was on the edge. "But, that ain't true...is it," she stated flatly.

"I..." Michaela began, only to have her voice fail, as Grace's knowing eyes seemed to bring all of the carefully suppressed feelings rushing to the surface like a geyser. With a shudder, her face contorted with an avalanche of misery and she squeaked, "Oh Grace...Sully left me, six months ago!"

OOOOOO

Cloud Dancing couldn't believe his ears. Medicine Woman sent Sully away? He shook his head softly, trying to make sense of such a revelation, and wondering once again why he had felt nothing from the spirits. Perhaps he could have helped his friends in some way. Living in the white man's world and not with his own kind might have dulled his spiritual connections more than he had even realized, and the thought was a bitter one. During the long months since his brother's family had returned from their sad trip to far away Boston, he had been consumed with his life with Dorothy and with her new found fame as a writer, first working with her to polish the manuscript of the book she had burned in the futile attempt to protect he and Sully, and then assisting her with other literary endeavors.

But, how could he have missed that his brother had been in such agony? Why had Sully not sought him out for help or wisdom?

Determined to rectify the situation in any way possible, he glanced around, murmuring, "My brother...I left my horse with yours at the foot of the hill. Let us go to your shelter."

Sully nodded numbly and fell into step behind his friend as they made their way down the steep hill and around bushes, trees, and boulders, until they came to the patiently waiting horses. Deep down, a tiny spark of hope had ignited within Sully's heart. He desperately hoped that somehow his brother would have an answer to this puzzle, a nugget of wisdom that would magically fix the problem, the way he had so many times in their past.

Soon, they rode into a camp with a lean-to, cooking utensils, and other paraphernalia. Cloud Dancing looked around, noticing that Sully didn't seem to care about his living arrangements any more than he now cared about his appearance. The whole camp was a mess. Discarded food was drawing ants, and an unclean odor seemed to permeate the surroundings.

"Sully...forgive me, but...when was the last time you bathed?" the Indian asked, only half joking, as he slid from his horse.

Sully slid from his and let the reins drop, glancing at his companion and shrugging. "Don't know." Then catching the look from his friend, he added softly, "It don't seem important anymore. Nothin' does."

Knowing that his brother needed care and understanding, Cloud Dancing watched as Sully lowered himself tiredly to his bedroll, only to sit staring at the cold remains of his last camp fire. The Cheyenne set about rummaging through the camp's provisions for something he could prepare for a meal. Knowing his friend always enjoyed a good cup of coffee, he crossed to the nearby stream with pot in hand, rinsed it out and filled it, then came back and set it on the newly lit fire. All the while, he kept glancing at his companion, only to find Sully staring at nothing, obviously deep inside his tortured thoughts. Choosing to say nothing for the time being, he kept on with the preparing of the meal.

Later, after they had eaten their fill, they relaxed back onto their bedrolls, chatting idly. Cloud Dancing was pleased that Sully had consumed at least some of the food. Knowing he had to broach the subject at some point, the Medicine Man sat forward again, cross-legged, and reached into his pouch for some nuts to munch on. Offering some to his friend, he asked softly as Sully shook his head, "Tell me what has happened, my brother. Start at the beginning."

Sully clamped his lips together for a moment in somewhat of a pout, but then huffed out a breath and began to speak, haltingly, his voice just above a whisper. "I guess... things started ta... go bad after Michaela's Ma passed on. On the train comin' home, all she did was cry. Nothin' I did or said helped. She couldn't seem ta take comfort from me," he paused with a small shrug. "I thought it would pass in time. She was like she was after we thought Katie'd been killed, only ten times worse. That time, she was mad at me, cause she blamed me for Katie gettin' kidnapped, but this time...it was like all of the life had drained out 'a her. Even worse than after Washita..." he paused, darting a look at his friend. Cloud Dancing merely nodded and indicated for him to continue. "I figured she had what Horace did that time...and like him, nothin' helped." Stopping again, memories floated through his mind of all the many ways he had tried to help his beloved soul mate through her time of grieving – and all the ways he had been rebuffed... His eyes began to fill, but he swiped at them with the back of one hand.

"Then when we started to build the hospital, she seemed to perk up, but I realized later she was just pourin' herself into the work to keep from thinkin' about what was makin' her sad. I tried to talk to her, to get her to talk about it, but all she did was deny anythin' was wrong. If I pressed, she'd get mad. She started stayin' away from me, I guess because I was tryin' to get her to face somethin' she didn't wanna face...I dunno," he sighed with a defeated shrug. "Sometimes she stayed in town at the clinic even when me and Katie went on home. She went on trips alone to Denver to oversee buyin' stuff for the hospital. But...she was like a different person. She wasn't excited about the hospital, she didn't want to lay with me and talk about it, or hear about my work on it, or anythin'." He paused and glanced again at his friend, finding only a patient regard. "She, uh...she stopped...bein' with me. When I'd try, she'd shy away or gimme some kind 'a excuse." Cloud Dancing nodded, thinking all of this was in line with what he figured had been wrong with Michaela, that she had once again found herself in a 'dark place', but for whatever reason, could not find her way out again. Cloud Dancing suspected, however, that there may have been more than one 'hurt' from which she had been suffering.

Sully shook his head, pressing the heel of his hand against his forehead as he felt the beginnings of a headache, which always happened when he recited the details, even to himself. Knowing it was because his life had gotten so out of balance, he sighed hopelessly. "That went on and on. I guess everybody thought everythin' was alright, cause we kept goin' ta church together, rode inta town together, ate at Grace's together...but when we were alone...it was like I was a stranger to her. And she wouldn't talk to me about it. All she would say was, 'I don't know what you're talking about, Sully'. I was at the end of my rope...I guess I just couldn't understand how her mother's passin' could break her up so bad that it would come between _us_..."

With a soft groan, he shoved both hands into his hair, leaving them there as he stared at the ground between his dusty boots. "It all finally blew up after the hospital was dedicated. I thought maybe that would let her relax, but..." He stopped and grimaced at the painful memory. "A few nights later, gettin' ready for bed, I tried ta kiss her, and she pushed me away. I guess I...I guess I'd had all I could take, cause I said some things to her I ain't proud of. She yelled that if all I wanted her for was _that_, I could just leave. That she didn't need me. I yelled back that she hadn't been a wife ta me, or a ma to Katie, in months. She threw her hairbrush at me, and screamed at me ta get out and never come back. That she never wanted to see me again. So I left."

He stopped again, reliving that painful moment and the rage that coursed through his body as he'd slammed the front door so hard he almost broke the window, stormed out to the barn, and galloped off into the night without looking back.

"Sully...I am sure you know that it is human nature to say things in the heat of anger that we do not mean. You should have given her time to calm herself and then..."

"I _did_, Cloud Dancin'!" Sully interrupted, the agitation he felt at the situation rising to the surface. "I stayed away that night and all the next day. Stayed out on Daniel's land, thinkin', wonderin' what to do. Then...I went home and she and Katie were in town. I didn't know how Michaela would react if I went to see her, so I sat down at the kitchen table and wrote her a letter. I poured out my feelin's, told her how she'd hurt me, and I told her that in spite of everything, all I wanted was for her to be happy. And if it took me stayin' away from her to make her happy, that's what I'd do. I told her I'd wait four days for her to come to me. Told her where I'd be, and that if I didn't hear from her, I'd go on to the Yellowstone land and take that job as overseer. I waited five days..." he paused, looking into his brother's understanding eyes, and added softly, "she never came."


	3. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

"What is this nonsense you're tellin' me?" Grace blustered, truly shocked that such words came tumbling from the mouth of her friend. "I can't believe that! I ain't neva seen a man more in love with his wife than Sully is with you. And Katie – he'd do anythin' for his little girl..."

Michaela nodded miserably, her hands raised to her face as the tears flowed unchecked.

"That's what I thought too...but it's true," she blubbered. "We...we had a terrible fight and I...I told him to leave. I told him I never wanted to see him again...and he never came back!" she moaned in misery.

Startled, Grace quickly moved around the desk and went to her knees, taking her distraught friend in her arms and cradling Michaela's head against her chest. Still shocked, she rocked her friend gently from side to side, whispering, "I...I just can't believe it. Not Sully. Not after all you two been through togetha..."

"Oh Grace!" Michaela whined, clutching her friend desperately as she finally allowed herself to take another into her confidence. But now that the dam had broken, the river of tears was unstoppable. "I don't know what I'm going to do," she sobbed. "I can't live the rest of my life without him...he IS my life!"

Anger rose up in Grace at the stupidity of men – even one everyone figured was near perfect. "Somebody needs ta go find that man and take a horse whip to his no good hide," she grumbled.

Michaela immediately pulled back, tears streaming, her face red and puffy. "No," she sniffled, shaking her head. "I don't blame him for leaving." Looking around for the handkerchief she had let her daughter use, she now wiped her eyes and blew her nose. "I had been impossible to live with after Mother passed on. I only realized after he'd been gone for a week with no word, that I'd taken his patience and understanding for granted. He'd been there the whole time, supporting me, loving me, helping build the hospital, caring for Katie when I was barely functioning...and I gave him nothing in return..." Remembering scenes from those months, she shook her head miserably. "Everyone has a breaking point," she concluded with a pitiful shrug. "He reached his."

"Well, _still_..." Grace argued, seating herself in the chair Katie had vacated. "I did all that an' _worse_ to Robert E. afta Anthony passed on, but all it took was us really _talkin_', just one time, for everythin' to be alright again. All that is water unda the bridge now. You'd think Sully'd be over it...and come back..."

Michaela nodded, lips trembling with emotion. "Every day I pray for his return...but..." she stopped, shrugging forlornly.

Suddenly reaching out to grasp one of her friend's hands, she mewled, "Grace, what should I do? I know I can't live the rest of my life without him, but I...I can't bare the thought of anyone knowing about this! I...I can't ask Daniel to go look for him and I can't go myself...I wouldn't even know where to look!"

Grace thought for a moment, patting her friend's hand consolingly. "What about Cloud Dancin' and Dorothy...surely they'd know..."

Michaela nodded, "I thought of that, but the last letter I got from her, she and Cloud Dancing were in New York again. I've been hoping they would come for a visit...the last time they were here, I was away in Denver..."

Grace's gentle heart ached as she gazed at her friend. With determination, she pressed her lips together and nodded, giving her hand another pat.

"Don't you worry, Docta Mike. We'll think 'a somethin'!"

OOOOOOO

After spending a little more time with her friend to make sure she was as all right as possible, Grace left the hospital and marched down the street and past the library. Rounding the corner, she passed the Gold Nugget, which was already filled with boisterous early arrivers of the evening crowd. Scooting through the alley between what used to be Michaela's clinic and the empty Gazette building, she hurried to the stables.

Robert E. looked up as she approached, flashing her a smile as he curried one of his boarded horses. But the look on her face took him aback. His smile quickly disappeared.

"Robert E.," she called as she marched near. He stopped what he was doing and met her at the gate.

"What's wrong, suga'?"

"I just came from Docta Mike's office and...and I gotta tell you somethin'. You ain't gonna believe it."

Robert E.'s brown eyes opened larger as he stared at his fuming wife. _What in the world? _"What? Tell me."

Grace flapped her hands for a second; still so agitated at Sully she couldn't stand it. At that moment, if she would have seen him, she might have wrung his neck.

"Grace! What?" Robert E. sputtered, grasping her arms. "Is Docta Mike alright? Katie?"

"Yes, they're alright – as alright as they _can_ be," she answered dramatically. "Do you know what that no good Sully up and did? He left his wife and chil'! Six months ago!" Shaking her head, still in the grip of the shock of the unexpected news, she sneered, "I woulda neva expected that..."

"It ain't whatcha thinkin', Grace," Robert E. interrupted.

Stopping short, Grace's mouth dropped open and she stared at her husband. He had that guilty look she'd seen many times before. Shaking his head, he dropped his hands from her arms and took a rag out of his back pocket to wipe the sweat that had suddenly begun to bead on his forehead.

"And just whata you know about this?" Grace asked, cocking her head and placing her hands on her hips.

"I'm just sayin'," Robert E. tried to back peddle, knowing he had already said too much. "That there's always two sides ta every story. Now, now, it ain't none 'a our bizness..." he began.

"None 'a our bizness?!" Grace exploded, angry that her husband seemed to know something she had obviously been kept in the dark about. "We're talkin' about our _Godchild_...our _friends_, Robert E.! You tell me what you know about this – right now!"

"Grace! Keep ya voice down," the blacksmith murmured, casting his gaze around to make sure no one was near as he tried to hush his volatile wife – which was no simple feat. "Now, what I'm gonna tell ya has got ta stay between you and me, undastand?"

Grace just stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Sully...he's in Yellowstone. He sends money once a month for me ta give Loren to pay on Docta Mike's tab, and I write him back and let him know how she and Katie are doin'. Truth is, Docta Mike...she kicked him out and she won't let him see Katie."

"That ain't true!" Grace shot right back, becoming more confused and concerned. None of this made any sense. "I just come from her, Robert E.! She don't know where he is, and...and you shoulda seen her – I ain't neva seen her so upset. It's like she's on the edge and gonna collapse any minute!" At his disbelieving look, she added, "I'm _tellin'_ ya, she _don't know where he is_."

The man shook his head, sure of his facts. "Sully wrote her a letter. He gave her time and told her where he'd be. She neva said he could come back."

"Oh Robert E...she couldna got that letter! She wouldn't lie ta me, not like that," Grace pursed her lips and shook her head emphatically. "Somethin' ain't right here. Now, she's hurtin' bad...and Katie is too! We gotta _do_ somethin', Robert E.!"

Scrubbing his hand over his face, and wiping the back of his neck with the rag, the man thought back over the months, observing Dr. Mike as she went about her business. He could plainly see she wasn't happy. Matter of fact, he had entertained thoughts of coming right out and asking her why she was keeping Sully away, but being a man of his word and a man who prided himself on minding his own business, he'd never taken that step. He'd told himself whatever was going on was between the two of them.

Now looking into the piercing eyes of his wife, he agreed. Something wasn't right. Something just didn't add up, didn't ring true. He'd thought so all along. Sully had made him swear not to tell a soul, but... _Sometimes...a man's gotta go back on his word if it's for the greater good..._

Clamping his lips tight, he gave his wife a quick nod.

OOOOOOO

"Sully...do you want your family restored, or is it your wish to continue on the way you are living?" The wise Cheyenne gently asked.

Sully shot him a look that could melt steel. "Whadda _you_ think? But I ain't the one that called it quits. _She_ is," he growled bitterly.

Cloud Dancing's expression didn't change. He understood his brother wasn't striking out at _him_, but at an enemy that was unseen and unreachable - the enemy of misunderstanding. "But _you_ are the one who walked away," he gently reminded.

"I _told_ ya, I gave her time. She decided she didn't want me around anymore. I..." Sully paused, pressing his lips together tightly before adding, "I used to wonder if she'd get tired of me someday. It was one 'a the things that took me so long to get past...and why it took me so long ta ask her ta marry me." He stared at his brother, hurt and anger warring in his eyes, until suddenly all of the quickly kindled fire seemed to burn out just as fast as it had flared. Right before Cloud Dancing's eyes, he withered back down to the shell of a man he had become. "I jus'...thought I'd paid my dues on that...but I guess I hadn't."

Weighing his options, the concerned medicine man pursed his lips for a moment, and then asked pointedly, "Where is the man I have known for the past seventeen winters? The fearless man who jumped from a cliff with the woman he loved...who fought against an entire garrison of Mexican soldiers to save her...who would have given his life to protect what was his?"

Sully lowered his head in shame, feeling every bit the defeated man that he was. She was his strength. Without Michaela's love, he was nothing. Empty. Less than zero. Cloud Dancing could barely make out his answer as he whispered, "None 'a that matters anymore. She don't need me...she don't want me. I can't make her love me."

Normally, the calm Indian would have raised his eyebrows and gave a slight shrug before going about his business if someone stubbornly refused to accept his advice. But seeing his brother in such pain and physically dying from grief...he couldn't just stand by and do nothing.

"Sully, I do not believe this is true." He raised one hand, fingers splayed upward as he made his point. "Spirits say fight. Fight for your family. Spirits say... stand up and be a man." He watched as his brother brought his hands up to hold his head as he kept his head lowered, softly groaning. Cloud Dancing had one more bullet to fire and leaning forward, he reminded the distraught man, "Katie needs the influence of her father...no matter what is happening between her parents."

Sully took in a ragged breath, pressing his palms against his forehead as the megrim now raged with vicious ferocity. If he did as his brother was urging, he would be going against his word to Michaela. He had promised that he would abide by her wishes and stay away if that was what she wanted.

As much as he wanted to be with her, to be with and raise Katie, to get his family back, he also wanted Michaela to be happy, no matter the personal cost. No matter that living without them the past six months had nearly killed him.

Finally, he raised his eyes to his friend, his cheeks wet with tears.

The brothers locked gazes.


	4. Chapter 3

_Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story so far! _

**CHAPTER 3**

It had taken a week for Grace to convince Michaela that her inflexible pride in not wanting anyone to know her 'shame' was doing more harm than she realized. Katie was suffering, not to mention Michaela herself. The intrepid café owner finally convinced the stubborn physician to 'heal herself' and reach out to Sully, to extend the olive leaf. Learning that he'd been sending money every month proved, at least, that he still cared, and that bit of truth did give Michaela hope. It had never occurred to Loren to mention the monthly payments. He naturally assumed Michaela knew.

But there was still the question of why Sully had been gone so long with no word directly to her, no inquiries about their daughter. The only reason that seemed plausible to Michaela was that Sully was merely fulfilling his obligations, but was purposely avoiding personal contact...

Grace finally took the bull by the horns and called together a small group of Michaela's trusted friends. After seeing her daughter to school, Michaela walked to the church as if to her own execution, and sat on a pew at the front. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself as Grace hovered close like a mother hen. Hank, Daniel, Loren, and Robert E. stood with their arms crossed over their chests, gazing down at the doctor in heartfelt compassion. None of them had ever seen her so defeated. At that moment, they would have dearly loved to knock some sense into Sully. Even Robert E.'s confidence in his friend had wavered some, once he had found out Dr. Mike had never received the alleged 'letter'.

"I say we just go up to Yellowstone and beat the livin' tar outta him," Hank drawled, thinking he'd been right all along – Sully didn't deserve to have won such a prize as Michaela.

"Aww Hank, that's what you always say. But I say, there's somethin' we don't know. This ain't like Sully," Robert E. began, only to be interrupted by Loren.

"Ain't _like_ him! Why, that's what he did after my Abby died tryin' ta give birth ta his baby. He just up and left. Nobody knew where he was. Why...he didn't tell nobody goodbye or nothin'! Just left the homestead and everything in it and high tailed it to parts unknown. Seems ta me that's what he's done again," he added smugly, hooking his thumbs in his vest.

"No, it ain't what he's done," Daniel quietly injected. "Robert E.'s admitted that he's been in touch with Sully, and that Sully maintains that Michaela threw him out..."

Michaela winced as if she'd been struck. Remembering the terrible words she had yelled at her husband the last night she saw him, she hung her head in shame, raising a hand to cover her face as she fought back fresh tears. _Oh, how I wish I could take those words back!_

"Well, _I_ believe Docta Mike," Grace defended, slipping a protective arm around her friend. "Sure, they had a fight. _All_ couples fight. But he left without another word to her!"

"No, he _said_ he wrote her a letter," Robert E. reminded.

"But she didn't _get_ no letter," Grace snapped, beginning to feel agitation toward her own husband.

The volatile discussion instantly heated up as Hank, Daniel and Loren all felt the need to restate their opinions of the situation and of Sully himself, arguing back and forth about what they perceived as the 'truth'. Each one unknowingly stated different thoughts that had tormented Michaela throughout the months, and they were only making her feel worse. She was already wishing she hadn't confessed her shame to Grace.

"Now, hold on," the Reverend interceded, holding up a hand to his unseen friends from his place on the other side of Michaela. The tension in the room mounting, he could sense that his friend of many years was at the breaking point. "None of this is accomplishing anything. Now, what I think we should do is..." he paused, sensing something had changed in the emotion-charged sanctuary. He heard Loren gasp softly. Hank whispered, "Well I'll be..."

Suddenly, the hair on the back of Michaela's neck began to prickle and her mouth went dry. Lowering her hand, she raised her eyes to the four men standing before her, to find them staring, open mouthed, toward the back of the church.

Grace noticed and turned in her seat, emitting a soft gasp. Her hand unconsciously squeezed Michaela's shoulder.

Swallowing, her heart pounding so hard her pulse buzzed in her ears, Michaela slowly turned on the seat. What she had wished and prayed for had unexpectedly happened.

There, standing just inside the door, stood the object of everyone's concern...

_Sully_.

Their eyes met and held, each set revealing all of the hurt and betrayal they were feeling.

Moments ticked by, everyone afraid to breathe, as if he were a mirage that might just as suddenly vanish.

Finally, Daniel softly cleared his throat.

"Ah, folks, I think this meeting's over. These two need to talk."

Silently, the others nodded and began to walk quietly down the aisle. Each one paused for a second next to the returning prodigal, but he didn't take his eyes from Michaela's until Robert E. paused beside him. Sully glanced at him and gave one nod, the blacksmith returning the gesture, before he filed on out and shut the door quietly behind him. The six friends paused at the base of the steps, exchanging looks.

"Oh Lawd, be with 'em in there..." Grace murmured, staring at the closed doors as she clutched the cross around her neck.

"I...I think I'll sit here for a while...just in case they might need...an impartial third party," the Reverend announced softly, his hand feeling for the steps as he lowered himself down.

Grace nodded, still feeling very protective of Michaela. "I'll stay, too."

Robert E. glanced at the other three and then reached up to place his cap back on his head. "Aw shucks, they'll be alright. I'm goin' back ta work," and with that, he set off back to town, extremely happy and relieved that he would no longer be required to keep Sully's secret – and that his friend Dr. Mike had her soul mate back.

Muttering a few choice words, Hank murmured, "I need a whiskey." Drawing a last puff off his cheroot, he flicked the butt into the weeds before ambling after the blacksmith.

Daniel and Loren exchanged a glance, looked up at the closed door, and sighed. "All this hullabaloo for nothin'," Loren griped, taking off after Hank. "Hey, wait up Hank. Think I'll join ya."

Daniel huffed out a sigh; relieved and concerned as he felt the pain of both of his friends. He didn't want to admit, even to himself, that a tiny kernel of hope had begun, way down deep in his heart, that maybe he could 'comfort' the grieving Michaela. He should have known better. If he were honest with himself, he knew those two were meant to be together.

With a polite tipping of his hat, he mumbled, "Grace...Reverend," and turned to go and perform a very important errand.

OOOOOOO

After the door had clicked shut, Sully looked back at his wife. She hadn't moved.

He swallowed, more nervous than he'd ever been in his life. She held his very existence in her hands. Having been told by the first stranger he encountered upon entering town that Dr. Mike was in the church with several others, he had no idea what they had been doing, as he'd only overheard the Reverend's comments. He assumed it was an impromptu council meeting.

Both waited for the other to speak. The misunderstanding crackled in the air between them.

Michaela's heart had lurched at the sight of her husband. She'd never seen him in such a shape. His long hair was unkempt and edged with gray, as was his beard. He was fairly clean, however, as he had scrubbed himself thoroughly before he started back from Yellowstone. Even with the beard, his face looked gaunt, and she could tell he had lost considerable weight, as if he hadn't been eating. The physician side of her brain became greatly alarmed for his physical condition. His eyes were hollow and almost lifeless. _Robert E. was right..._ Guilt stabbed at her soul. _What have I done to him? How did this happen to us?_

Sully stared at the woman he still adored. All hurt and anger slowly dissolved as he observed her. She seemed severely fatigued, her face worn and tired, as if she had been through an unending emotional wringer. It reminded him of her total depletion during the epidemic all those years before. But...it was a different sort of look than she had worn during her time of mourning for her mother. Instinctively, Sully knew that Cloud Dancing and the spirits had been right. She hadn't wanted him to leave. That thought jarred him to his soul...to think that he had stayed away for _nothing_, believing he was being noble and sacrificing himself to give her what she wanted... _How could I 'a been so stupid?_

But the mystery of why she hadn't answered his letter, or come to him, or written to him still stuck in his craw, so he stood rooted to the spot, waiting...

Someone had to say something to break the ice. Michaela, knowing she was the cause of the original trouble between them, moistened her lips and whispered, "You've come back..."

Not trusting himself to speak, he merely nodded as he waited for her invitation to move forward. The memory of all the times she had rebuffed him in the past still raw.

Nervously, she rose from her seat, smoothing her skirt with damp hands before clasping them in front of her. Casting about for something to say, she murmured, "Have...have you been ill?"

His eyes narrowed for a moment, then realized she was probably referring to his obviously deteriorated appearance. Cloud Dancing had gone so far as to tell him he had the look of a man who was dying. He pressed his lips together in a pout. "No...jus'...jus' my _heart_. Its song's been silent." He watched as the words caused her eyes to begin to fill.

"Oh Sully..." she whispered, her heart squeezing painfully at the reference...his Heartsong... She clenched her hands into tight fists, desperately trying to hold together her frayed emotions.

She took a tentative step toward him, but held back from fear and uncertainty – was he still hurt and angry? Could he ever forgive her?

He reciprocated and moved a step closer, holding himself back from rushing to her and crushing her in his arms. He _had_ to know if she truly wanted him back.

"Katie...she's alright?" he rasped, his voice hoarse with restrained emotion.

Bitterly ashamed, Michaela dropped her head, gritting her teeth together for a moment as visions of Sully screaming Katie's name after she'd been kidnapped swam before her liquid vision. She knew how much Sully loved his daughter...could he really have thought she would keep her from him? How had things gotten so off track between them? Another ton of guilt dropped on her shoulders. _How could I have been so horrid to him? Had I gone temporarily insane? What had gripped me so, that I would act and think so completely irrationally? _Once again, she thanked God the 'insanity' had abated.

Instinctively she knew that they were at a crossroads, standing on a precipice, and that pride and misunderstandings like this had broken many solid marriages completely apart. She refused to allow that to happen. Taking a deep breath, she raised her head again, repentant tears on her cheeks.

His heart constricted.

"Oh Sully...I'm so sorry for the things I said that night. That terrible night...I didn't mean any of it," she squeaked, her eyes pleading. "I've wanted so badly to tell you that...to beg you to forgive me. For that – and for all the months I shut you out..." she paused as she watched his eyes fill and finally, he began to move toward her and she to him, both rushing the last few steps to collide into one another's arms in sweet relief.

"Oh God, 'Chaela..." "Sully..." they gasped, eyes shut as they gloried in one another's long needed embrace. Then suddenly they were kissing, both famished to the point of starvation for the taste of their beloved, wildly drinking in each other's essence until their tears eventually mingled on their cheeks. They only pulled back enough to simultaneously kiss away the liquid emotion.

"God I've missed you!" Sully groaned, bringing his hands to her head and cradling her face with his palms, his brow pressed to hers, his eyes shut tight.

She nodded, her eyes shut, her arms wrapped around his back, unwilling to ever let him go. She whispered, "_I've_ missed _you_!"

"I need ya so bad...I was goin' outta my mind...I was _dyin'_ without ya!" he rasped, kissing his way back to her lips again. _She wanted him...she loved him! _He felt as if he had come back from the dead...awakened from a long horrendous nightmare.

_He came back to me...he's never stopped loving me...how could I have ever believed such a thing? _His kisses chafed her mouth, his beard was rough against the smooth skin of her cheeks, his arms nearly crushed the breath from her lungs, but she reveled in all three...only that moment realizing she had been on the brink of ceasing to exist without his love, his strength, his presence to steady her world.

"So much time wasted," she whispered remorsefully. "How could I have been such a fool?"

Then suddenly she was sobbing in a mixture of relief and regret. He immediately scooped her up in his arms and lovingly carried her to the front of the church as she clung to his neck and wept. He eased down on the pew she had vacated, still holding her close in his arms. Rocking her gently back and forth, he pressed his lips to her hair, murmuring little words of love and comfort, but not shushing her. He knew she needed to let it all out. Astutely, he sensed she had been holding her emotions in since the night he left.

The tears wouldn't stop once the floodgates opened. Michaela wept in shame and remorse for all of the harsh words she had flung at this man she loved...this man who loved her and had always put her wants and needs above his own. For all of the times she had pushed him away, resisted his attempts to help, wallowed in self-pity and allowed her time of mourning to turn into unnecessary months of agony for them both. He'd been so patient, so loving through it all – and actually his leaving had been proof of his love, as he truly thought she wanted him gone. Nothing could have been farther from the truth, as she had begun to mourn his absence the minute she had heard the front door slam that awful night.

Finally, as the sobs slowed to soft, jerking sniffles, he pressed her forehead to his neck, his eyes closed. "I been such a fool. Cloud Dancin' was right. I shoulda known somethin' was wrong. I shoula come back and made ya talk to me," he whispered, his heart aching. "It's all my fault."

Michaela moved her head a tiny shake. "It isn't your fault, it's mine. But, I wish you had come back...Robert E. said you left me a letter...but oh Sully, I give you my word, I never saw it..." Pulling back, she swiped at the tears with the back of her hand. "Where did you leave it?" she asked, only just then truly believing the letter had actually existed.

His lips curved into a small, sad smile as he moved his hand to smooth away with a thumb the moisture on her cheek. "On the kitchen table."

She allowed her mind to go back to those awful days after he had left, picturing the pristine kitchen each time she had come home...no letter anywhere in sight.

"It breaks my heart that I didn't receive it," she whispered. "So much has happened since you've been gone...I've needed you so badly..."

Shame gouged at his heart and he pressed his lips tightly together, feeling that he deserved to be horse whipped. "I never shoulda gone away...I shoulda been here. I shoulda been here."

Fresh tears gathered in her eyes, his words reminding her of others they had shared so many years before. She raised one hand to caress his beloved face, smoothing the ruffled beard, wet with their mingled tears. "I'm just thankful you're here now...you came home to me."

His lips trembled with emotion, his eyes searching hers. How could they have let things go that far? How could they have suffered such a tragic misunderstanding? They were each other's soul mates! Each other's Heartsong! They didn't just _love_ one another; each one _needed_ the other for their very existence!

He reached for her hand and gently pressed her fingers to his lips, eyes closing, as he had done so many times before. "There's no place else on earth I'd rather be...and I ain't ever gonna leave ya again – ever," he whispered the vow, meaning it with every cell of his body.

"And I promise that I shall never turn you away or hurt you again," she vowed, sealing their words with a soft kiss. As he leaned his forehead to touch hers, he wondered if a heart could burst from sheer relief and love.

Suddenly, they heard the sound of feet running up the steps and the door bursting open. Startled, they turned their heads to see their sweet daughter as she appeared at the edge of the entry wall. Her eyes lit up and she squealed, "Poppy!"

In a flash, she ran down the aisle. Michaela moved off Sully's lap to allow him to greet his daughter, and he bent down, catching her in his arms and swinging her around and around. "Katie girl, my sweet Kates, I've missed ya so much," he murmured as he crushed her to his chest. Whispering her pet name for him repeatedly, she covered his cheeks with kisses.

Michaela retrieved a hanky from her reticule and wiped her face and eyes, her gaze never leaving these two people she loved more than anything else in the world. Katie had needed her father, needed to feel his love, for so long. It warmed Michaela clear through to watch their reunion.

Finally drawing back a bit, but still held tight in her father's arms, Katie met Sully's tear-filled blue eyes. Her brown eyes wet with matching emotion, she murmured, "I was so afraid you would never come back. Please Poppy...don't ever go away again..."

Using every ounce of emotional strength he had left to keep from breaking down at her innocent request, Sully closed his eyes for a moment. A tear slowly rolled down each cheek as he shook his head softly. He brought her face close and kissed her forehead, vowing, "I won't, honey. I promise. I'll never leave ya again." She wrapped her little arms around his neck and held on tight.

He opened his eyes and turned a bit to meet his soul mate's eyes, seeing the tears coursing down her cheeks again. They matched his own. "Never again," he repeated, from the depths of his heart.

Then taking a deep breath, he adjusted Katie in his arms and stepped back to his wife, extending a hand to her. With a watery smile, he mumbled, "Let's go home."

She took his hand and nodded, rising to her feet. Stretching up, she lovingly kissed their daughter and wrapped one arm around her husband. Together, they slowly made their way down the aisle.

Opening the door, they stepped out together into the bright autumn sunlight. To each one, it seemed that they were seeing the sun for the first time in months. The dark, heavy cloud had lifted. They could breathe again.

Grace and Daniel smiled up at them, greatly relieved to see the three of them happy again. The Reverend could feel their joy, and his beaming smile reflected his own feelings of relief.

Again, Sully said to the world at large, "Let's go home."

_It ain't over yet folks!_


	5. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

The journey home was a joyous one. Katie perched on the seat between her parents, rattling on about everything she could think of to tell her father as he drove the wagon, one hand on the reins, the other unable to stop touching and connecting with his two loves.

Pulling up to the homestead, he drew the reins back and just sat for several moments, glorying in being able to see this magical place they had created together...and he had sorely missed. A bit of laundry waved on the line in the autumn breeze. A small line of smoke rose from both chimneys, remains of fires that morning. Chickens milled about at the base of the steps.

"Feels good to be home," he murmured, drawing in a large, relaxing breath. But, he also saw evidence of his desertion...fence rails loose or missing, one shutter hanging crooked next to the front door, leaves from the trees blown into piles against the foundation, a glass pane broken in a second floor window – and as she had done at the old homestead, Michaela had tried to patch it with glass jars.

Sully jumped down and turned to lift first his daughter and then his wife down from the wagon seat. They stood for a moment, sharing a family hug. Then, her excitement bubbling over, Katie disengaged from her parents and grasped both their hands, tugging them toward the steps.

They entered together, Sully stopping for a moment inside the door to revel again at being home. Six months was a long time to pine for something...and someone...so excruciatingly. Standing there, he acknowledged that in a way he had taken his home and his family for granted, and he silently vowed that he would never, ever, do that again.

Michaela smiled happily, removing her winter shawl and hanging it on a peg next to the door. "Katie, sweetheart...how about you and I work together to make your father his favorite meal?"

"Fried chicken!" the little girl agreed, gazing up at her father's face as he smiled and winked at her.

"Sounds great. I...I ain't had a good meal since..." he stopped, not wanting to bring up the past again. Instead, he busied himself taking off his jacket and carefully hanging it on a peg, then crossing into the living room to relight the fire and ward off the fall chilliness in the house.

Michaela watched him, her heart crimping. He seemed somewhat stooped and as if he'd aged ten years, and his clothing hung on his frame. His shirt, the checkered blue one, was faded and worn. His buckskins were ripped in several places. She realized with a shock that he'd spent the last six months in those same clothes. Intense shame for her actions threatened to well up inside her again, but she tamped it down. Sully had apparently forgiven her. She was determined that they would put this terrible time behind them and go on with their lives.

A few minutes later, he wandered into the kitchen, watching with glowing eyes as his two girls bustled around preparing dinner. Katie had learned a lot while he'd been gone, he noticed. He thought back to so many nights when he and Michaela would work on supper together and he'd set the table. Katie obviously had stepped into that role, as the two ladies of the house had been forced to carry on without him... He shook his head to clear it of guilty thoughts, and forced himself to concentrate on Katie's current chatter. She was telling of something that had happened in school.

Michaela turned to get the plates from the shelf, glancing at her husband and noticing his gaze had centered on the empty table. Her heart lurched again. _He must be thinking of his letter. Oh that mystery!_ She wished fervently that she knew its whereabouts.

He glanced up and caught her watching, and he smiled a sad, regretful smile. He was thinking he should have waited and handed the letter to her personally. So much heartache could have been avoided. But, he'd let hurt, pride and fear stand in his way...

She crossed to the table, needing to let him know again that she believed him.

"You put your letter on the table?" she asked softly, one hand resting on its surface.

He nodded, thinking for one wild moment that maybe he only dreamed doing it...

Katie turned and approached the table. "The letter, Mama?" she asked innocently.

Both parents' eyes widened and they looked at their daughter...

Michaela leaned forward to look her little girl earnestly in the eyes. "Katie, did you see a letter from your father on the table when he — after he had gone?"

Katie, unsure of the expressions on her parents' faces, explained haltingly, "It...I saw a letter when we got home. It was laying right here," she paused, stepping close and touching the center of the table. "I lit the fire there in the fireplace like you'd told me, Mama. You were putting Flash away. It was the night of that big storm, remember?"

Michaela nodded numbly as her mind returned to that night. She remembered the big storm...howling wind for hours, rattling the windows, she hadn't been able to close the shutters. And then the torrential rain...she had stayed awake all night worrying about Sully, wondering if he had shelter, praying for his safety. She had alternated between anger, disappointment and frustration, to intense worry, as she had no idea why he was staying away or where he could possibly be.

Sully remembered that storm, too. He'd taken shelter the best he could, crouched in a tiny cave, no more than an impression into the rock wall. It had been one of the longest nights of his life as he'd oscillated between nearly going home, stubbornly staying away, and worriedly wondering if Michaela would try to venture out in the storm to find him. The thought never occurred to him that night that the storm, as horrendous as it was, would be the catalyst for their complete misunderstanding.

"When I came back downstairs later, the letter was gone...I thought you got it," Katie continued, her voice soft as she watched her mother's face suddenly turn pale, her father's eyes widen even more. "You didn't?" she peeped softly. "Was it...important?"

Michaela, as if in a trance, was remembering...she had hurried up the porch steps, overfilled shopping baskets in her arms, the wind blowing madly...she had turned the latch and a gust of wind had blown into the house, nearly slamming the door, with its precious window, backward, dislodging papers and lightweight items in both rooms. Could it have...? Then, her eyes and mouth dropped open. Appalled, she looked into her husband's understanding eyes.

"Oh Sully...I remember...when I cleaned out the ashes the next day..." she paused, her hands raising to frame her face as the image came flooding back. "There was the remains of something paper...only the edges of a few words in your handwriting remaining. I didn't know what it was...oh, if I'd have only thought...I should have..." she squeaked, lacerating remorse threatening to return.

"Hey, hey..." he interrupted, rounding the table and taking her in his arms. "Ssshhh, it's okay. It's over now..." he murmured, his hand lovingly pressing her head against his neck.

"But...all of this could have been avoided...if I'd only known you'd written a letter," Michaela fussed, railing at the injustice of it all. She gripped his arms as he tried to soothe her, "I should have _known_ you wouldn't just leave...I should have _trusted_ you...I should have gone out to look for you...I should have..."

"I'm sorry..." a little voice interrupted her tirade, causing both parents to look down and find their precious daughter with tears streaming. "I saw it was from you, Papa! I should have told you Mama...I should have asked you if you got it...I should have known..." she whimpered, aching in remorse. _The whole thing was my fault! Poppy went away and I could have stopped him!_

"No, honey!" Sully interrupted, bending to pick her up, all three shedding tears again for the unnecessary wasted time. Communication...if they had only communicated!

"But it was _my_ fault!" Katie exclaimed.

"No, it's _mine_. I let my pride get..." Michaela fretted.

"It's _my_ fault, I never shoulda..." the couple argued simultaneously, the hurt still too recent.

Sully shook his head, realizing things were about to spiral out of control. He held up one hand to interrupt the deluge of emotion. "No. We gotta stop this. It's _over_," he stated firmly. "Blamin' don't fix things. It just picks at the wounds and makes 'em bleed," he added softly.

They stood there, holding one another, wiping tears, and wishing the last six months had been different. But at the same time, so very relieved that they were over.

"Maybe...maybe we're just supposed ta learn from this..." Sully murmured, holding his girls tightly. Wife and daughter clutched him, leaning back a bit to see his face. "Let's make a pact right now...that we won't assume nothin' ever again. We'll ask, and talk, and never go away from each other angry. _Ever_. Deal?" Sully asked with a tiny smile.

He put Katie down on the floor again and stuck out his hand. She wiped tears with one hand as she placed her other in his, and they shook playfully. Then he turned to Michaela. Holding out his hand, he murmured again, "Deal?" They shook hands solemnly, finally breaking into smiles when Katie giggled.

Laughing softly, and very relieved that the mystery had been solved, Sully grinned and hugged his two girls to his chest again, quipping, "Now how about let's fix that food? I'm starvin'!"

"Me, too!" Katie agreed.

The three spent a happy time preparing and eating their dinner together. None of them would have wanted to be anywhere else on earth.

OOOOOOOO

After dinner and evening chores, the girls spent time helping their returning male clean up his appearance. Michaela trimmed the errant ends and sides of his hair, while Katie snipped off bits of his beard, amidst gleeful giggles that it was making him resemble a bear with mange. Sully good-naturedly fussed and complained about every snip of the scissors, although in reality he was reveling in the attention from his two favorite ladies.

When they were finished, Sully shooed them out of the kitchen with a loving, "I'll be up in a few minutes." He finished filling the copper tub with pails of steaming hot water, into which he sank up to his chest with a grateful sigh. He hadn't realized just how much he had missed taking real baths while he had been on his misguided and self-imposed exile.

As he sat there in the tub, his eyes roaming the familiar items in the kitchen he had built for his family, and listening to the happy laughter and soft voices of his wife and daughter, joy began to bubble up inside him that the misery was over – he was back home...to stay. The cup of his emotions was slowly filling with good, pushing out the bad, and he felt truly relaxed for the first time in a long time. So long, he couldn't even remember.

With renewed vigor, he sat up and began lathering his body and hair liberally with the soap Michaela had set near the tub, followed by a hasty shave to get his appearance back to normal...smooth faced, the way he knew they liked him best. He was anxious to be alone with his wife...

Wincing as he nicked his jaw with the straight razor, he snickered, whispering, "Slow down, boy. Take it easy."

OOOOOOO

Michaela and Katie had retired up to Katie's room, Colleen's old one, as the man of the house commenced his bath.

Once Katie had changed into her nightgown for bed, Michaela picked up the hairbrush lying on the vanity and sat with her sweet daughter on the big four-poster bed.

After a few strokes of the brush through her hair, Katie turned her head a bit and peered up at her mother, noticing the faraway expression in the familiar russet and sage eyes. Michaela refocused on her daughter after a moment, blessing her with a loving smile as she continued her ministrations.

"Mama...?" Katie began, pausing as she tried to decide if she should voice her thoughts or not, the myriad of misunderstandings still weighing on her mind.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Michaela crooned, smoothing her daughter's hair back from her forehead.

Katie bit her lip for a moment, finally venturing, "Do...do you think Poppy will really stay?"

Michaela's eyes widened for a moment, and then softened as she met Katie's concerned brown gaze. She saw the fear in their depths. Knowing that Sully would, himself, need to spend time earning their little girl's trust that he was home to stay, she nevertheless hastened to reassure her. "Oh sweetie, yes of course! Your father gave us his word – and he always keeps his promises."

Reassured, Katie submitted again to her mother's ministrations, the only sound being the bristles of the brush as it passed through the wavy locks. Finally, Katie smiled happily as she quipped, "I can't wait to rub it in that mean old Harold's face tomorrow at school. I told him all along that my Papa would come home. I'm going to very much enjoy saying, 'I told you so'," she giggled playfully.

Michaela laughed with her as she put down the brush and motioned for Katie to scoot up and wiggle under the covers.

As was their custom, Michaela picked up from Katie's nightstand the current book they had been reading together and settled next to her daughter on the bed. Turning to the bookmark, she began to softly read the next chapter of _Little Women, _but her mind was only half on what she was reading. The other half was very much aware of every sound coming from the kitchen below...every tiny splash of water, and she had to push away the images that fought for her attention. She had seen her husband take a bath hundreds of times, of course, and even 'helped' on many occasions. Her fingers itched to help him now...to feel that warm, wet, smooth skin under her hands...hear him sigh in pleasure as she washed him...watch him open his eyes and stare knowingly, brazenly, into hers. Oh, how she had missed him!

Clamping down her emotions, Michaela mused silently, _Patience...I must have patience..._ Taking in a deep breath, she determinedly continued on with the story.

Minutes went by, and then feeling a familiar presence, she paused and turned her head. Her eyes lit up at finding a most welcome sight leaning leisurely against the doorframe, his damp hair combed back, face clean-shaven, barefoot, and wearing the clothes she had retrieved for him...her favorite blue striped shirt and pale buckskins. He had left the shirt only half buttoned, and not tucked in.

He'd been standing there for a while, just glorying in being able to hear her beloved voice. He had always loved to hear her read aloud to the kids, adoring the masterful way she articulated the words. Her intelligence and wit had always been one of the things he loved about her. God, how he'd missed her...

Katie looked over to the doorway and grinned happily. "Papa, come sit with us!" she invited, holding out her arms to him.

With a soft smile, he pushed off from the doorjamb and moved into the room, lowering himself to perch on the edge of the bed as Katie made space for him.

For a moment, he didn't trust himself to speak, but just gazed at first his daughter, then his beautiful wife. He was still amazed that he was actually home, as the memory was still fresh of his last night on the trail coming back, lying awake and staring up at the stars - and wondering what kind of reception he would receive once he reached Colorado Springs.

Tamping down her impatience again and wanting to give their little girl some much needed father/daughter time with Sully, Michaela smiled, gently rose, and laid the book on the nightstand. Leaning to press a kiss to Katie's cheek, she murmured, "Goodnight sweetheart. I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight Mama," Katie whispered as she returned the kiss and watched her mother softly close the door. Then she switched her gaze to her father again. Immediately, she saw the nick near his chin, and she reached out a small hand to gently touch it. Sully smiled and caught her hand, bringing it to his lips as she whispered, "You cut yourself shaving..."

"Yeah...guess I'm outta practice," he joked, his eyes glimmering in the light from the lamp. "I sure missed my Kates," he began, striving to rebuild the connection that six months' absence had begun to erode. "I thought of ya every day...you've grown so big..."

"Poppy, I missed you so much!" Katie mewled, suddenly sitting up and launching herself into his arms. He wrapped them tightly around her, pressing her to his chest and gently rocking back and forth. "The other kids at school...they kept sayin' you were never coming back...that you were with bad women..." she admitted softly.

Sully's eyes widened instantly, as that thought hadn't even occurred to him, that people would think he'd left Michaela for someone else. He closed his eyes and shook his head in remorse.

"I wasn't with nobody else, honey. I was alone...all alone...and missin' you and your Ma very much," he whispered, both of them quickly regaining their special father-daughter bond.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here, Katie..." he continued softly. "I know how mean kids can be, sayin' things and makin' ya feel bad. I'm sorry I caused you to be hurt like that. Your Pa was just plain stupid. I took somethin' for granted that I shouldna. But I'm here now, and I give you my word, I ain't ever goin' away again. And I love ya, sweetheart...so much..."

"I love you too, Poppy," Katie answered softly, kissing his cheek and nestling further into his arms. Her prayers had been answered. Her wishes had come true. Her fears had been for naught.

Her precious Papa was home again.


	6. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

Michaela changed into a nightgown and stoked the fire in their bedroom fireplace. Settling into the rocker, she waited contentedly, listening to the muffled voices drifting down the hall. _He's home. He's really home with us...to stay, _she mused.

Absently rubbing her hands up and down her arms as she slowly rocked, she marveled how much things could change in the space of one day. She had sat there in the chair the previous night and everything in her world seemed held together with impossibly frayed string. She truly hadn't known how she could go on another day, and she couldn't see then how things could ever be 'right' again.

Staring at the fire, lost in memories of the past six months, she didn't immediately realize he had finished his time with Katie and had padded silently down the hall to their room.

Turning her head, she met his eyes as he hovered in the doorway, unconsciously waiting to be 'invited' in. The last time they were together in their room...

She smiled and held her hand out to him. He moved to shut the door and came forward, took her hand, and then sank to his knees. Burrowing his upper body onto her lap, his hands encircled her lower back. He just stayed like that, his head against her stomach...as if he were soaking up her touch that he had needed for so long. As if he were a child in need of reassurance and comfort. It reminded her of Brian at times when he was young. Profoundly moved, Michaela gazed down at him, one hand lovingly caressing and smoothing his hair, the few silver strands glistening in the firelight. He seemed changed...somehow subdued, as he had when he'd first come home from being a fugitive.

"I'm so glad you're home," she murmured, smiling down at him lovingly when he opened his eyes and stared up into hers.

"A week ago, I believed I'd never see _it_...or _you_...again..." he admitted, the thought giving him a shiver.

"A week ago?" she asked, thinking of the afternoon she had broken down and admitted her failings to Grace. The moment when a loving friend insisted on helping...and she was so very glad Grace had.

She searched his eyes and raised an eyebrow, wondering...

"Did something happen?" she asked softly.

His lips formed a rueful smile and he murmured, "Cloud Dancin'."

Her eyes lit up. "He came to see you? He knew where you were?" she asked, kicking herself that she hadn't let go of her pride and written to Dorothy.

Sully sat back and took her hands in his, drawing her down with him on the floor in front of the hearth. "He said the spirits told him in a dream to go find me," he explained quietly. "That I was hurtin'. They led him to Yellowstone, and he came across my horse at the base of a big hill that overlooked a giant waterfall..." he paused, not wanting to tell her he had entertained thoughts of leaping from that cliff. Somehow she sensed his unspoken words, though, and raised a hand to lovingly caress his cheek. Fighting stabs of guilt, she said nothing.

"He made me tell him what happened...and he was shocked that the spirits hadn't warned him." Smiling fondly, he added, "He said he's lived in the white man's world too long...it's dulled his spiritual connections. When we parted, he was headed to the Black Hills for an extensive vision quest."

"What did he say when you told him that I had...thrown you out?" she asked self-derisively.

He smiled again, softly, allowing his eyes to travel over her features, the smooth curves and plains he had missed so much. "He said he couldn't believe Medicine Woman would do such a thing. And he really told me off for not makin' you tell me to my face that you wanted me gone."

She shook her head, bringing one of his hands to her lips and grazing the warm, work- roughened knuckles. "I'm so ashamed of my actions. When I think back on how I treated you...how I yelled at you...it's as if I'm remembering another person saying and doing those things."

Wishing to reassure her and assuage the guilt he knew she was feeling, he shook his head, sneering softly, "But, leavin' was the worst thing I coulda done. I was so dumb. I let the hurt pile up in me, feelin' sorry for myself."

"I don't know how I could have been so blind!" Michaela lamented. "I took you for granted for so long..."

"Well...I did some 'a that myself..."

Shaking her head softly, she stared pensively into the fire for several long moments, and then turned her head to meet his eyes again. "Do you remember when Grace and Robert E. were going through their period of difficulty and nearly split up?"

He nodded, pursing his lips slightly. "Yeah. He was fit ta be tied. I'd never seen him so angry."

Michaela nodded thoughtfully, "And we sat together in bed, talking about them, and I asked if something like that could ever happen to us...?"

He smirked at the memory, and how confident he'd felt at the time. "Yep, and I said, 'Never'." He shook his head in self-disgust. "Goes to show, it don't pay ta be cocksure, about anythin'." She nodded. He pursed his lips again, reaching out one hand to touch her hair, allowing several strands to run through his fingers. "Cloud Dancin' said the spirits tested us..."

She grimaced regretfully. "And we failed, miserably."

"Sure did," he whispered. "But I'm glad the test is over...it 'bout killed me."

"And me as well," she quickly agreed. Gazing into his beloved face, Michaela reached out a hand, smoothing his hair, her thumb tracing the curve of his cheekbone. "We're a part of one another, Sully. Once we met, our combined destiny became set in stone. We weren't meant to be apart. We are one of those pairs you told me about before, remember?" she added, her eyes twinkling. At his puzzled look, she elaborated, "Two people whom the Great Spirit cut apart..."

"And they try to get back together every chance they get?" he completed with a chuckle and a nod. "We sure are...and I've missed gettin' together with ya," he added, his voice low, his eyes glowingly potent.

"So have I..." she responded, her voice sultry.

It had been so long, much longer than the six months of separation. They found themselves feeling nervous, wanting to make sure they would still please one another.

His hand shaking slightly, Sully reached out and let his fingers caress her cheek. She immediately leaned into his palm, craving his touch.

He pulled her gently closer until their lips touched, whisper soft, not much more than a breath. Each one absorbed the essence of the other, wanting to savor this reunion with their soul mate and not just rush back into their physical relationship. Each one wanted everything to be perfect between them. It was as if they were discovering one another for the first time, yet there was still that deeply ingrained familiarity, as if they were two long lost friends recognizing each other in spite of decades of separation and silence.

"I've missed you so..." Michaela whispered, leaning closer, wanting more of him.

Eyes shut, he breathed in deeply, tilting his head to the side as he moaned, "Oooooh M'Chaela..."

Michaela leaned in, pressing her lips to his, once, twice, three times as she nuzzled him, her lips wandering to his now smooth cheek as she whispered, "I love you..."

"Mmm, I love _you_," he groaned, the other hand sliding up to immerse itself in her hair and tilt her head to the side as he made his way back to her mouth. Deepening the kiss, he moaned low in his throat and she opened to him fully. As their tongues merged, both experienced delicious shudders of excitement and expectation. Their kiss grew hotter and bolder as they each poured more and more of their suppressed longings into their actions.

Finally, Sully broke their kiss and leaned his head back enough to look into her passion-glazed eyes, his burning hot with desire. Without a word, he maneuvered to a standing position, pausing just a moment to gaze down at her, enjoying the seductive disarray of her appearance – her hair mussed from his hands, her gown askew...her eyes shimmering with desire as she gazed up at him. He offered his hands to help her up, and she placed hers within. He drew her to her feet and immediately scooped her into his arms, carrying her over to their bed as they nuzzled affectionately.

He laid her down gently, their eyes locking as he straightened up and reached for the buttons on his shirt. He maneuvered it off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. She swallowed, almost nervously, her eyes lowering to watch as his hands moved to the button on his buckskins.

Then, she sat up, grasping the hem of her nightgown. Slowly drawing it over her head, she held it a moment before tossing it aside. She knew she had lost quite a bit of weight, and for a moment, she wondered if that would matter to him.

He was thinking the same thing as he allowed his buckskins to drop to the floor...he'd always been proud of his muscular physique. Would she look at him differently in his somewhat depleted state?

For a few moments, they allowed their eyes to caress one another, tenderly taking note of the evidence of their prolonged shared emotional agonies. But to Sully, his beloved had never seemed more delicately beautiful. He wouldn't have thought it possible, but his absence really _had_ made his heart grow even fonder.

Reaching out one hand, he lovingly caressed her cheek with the tips of his fingers, allowing them to travel slowly down her slender neck, to her chest, to the curve of her breast, to her much thinner waist. Then he slowly bent down, placing his hands on either side of her as she leaned backwards in tandem, their lips meeting once more. In moments, they were entwined on the bed together, each sighing in pure bliss. How could either one have thought the other had fallen out of love? The whole thing now seemed like a grotesque nightmare.

Slowly, tenderly, the seasoned lovers fell naturally back into their loving. Kissing and caressing and moving in perfect rhythm, they brought each other to the heights of ecstasy and beyond - while making sure to keep the volume of their joyous reunion to loving murmurs, pleasure-filled gasps and blissful sighs, so as to not disturb their daughter down the hall. As their deeply profound joining reached its crescendo, the release and sense of completion it gave them brought them both to tears.

Afterward, tightly entwined and quivering with the aftershocks of intense physical and emotional euphoria, they spent long minutes whispering sweet reassurances of their love, and renewing their vow to never, ever, allow a misunderstanding to escalate between them again.

OOOOOOO

Later, as the firelight flickered quietly, husband and wife lay comfortably in one another's arms, pressed as closely together as humanly possible; the bond between the two of them reaffirmed.

Michaela knew, however, that they still needed to talk everything out. Now, after all that had happened, she was determined to leave no matter unaddressed; to leave no hidden pocket of hurt to fester.

Softly nuzzling Sully's chin with her forehead, she sighed contentedly, smiling when she felt him squeeze her impossibly closer.

Thoughtfully, she mused, "How could we have ever forgotten how good we are together?"

Sully roused from his languid state, one side of his mouth rising in a lazy half smile as he murmured, "I never forgot. Before we married I knew we'd be good t'gether...and _after_ we married," he paused, his grin getting more pronounced and cheeky, "never a day went by that I didn't want it, want _you. _I couldn't seem ta get enough of ya._"_

She smiled softly, basking in the happy glow shining between them.

"Sully?"

"Hmm?" he murmured sleepily, turning his head a little and pressing his lips to her hair.

"How could you have thought I never wanted to see you again...what did you say in your letter that convinced you so?" she asked hesitantly, wondering if she should, but forging on.

He pursed his lips, visualizing the all-important missive in his mind's eye. He knew every word by heart, as he'd agonized over it so often. Quietly, he let his fingers slowly caress her arm as he confided, "I told ya I was sorry for runnin' out that night. Sorry for not bein' what ya seemed ta need. I told ya how much you'd hurt me, but that in spite of everything, all I wanted was for you to be happy – and that if it took me stayin' away from ya to make you happy, that's what I'd do. I told ya I'd wait four days for you to come to me, that I'd wait up at our secret place, and if you didn't come, it would mean you were sayin' you didn't want me in your life anymore. I'd go on to the Yellowstone land and take that job as overseer. I waited five days..." he paused, and she whispered sorrowfully, "But I never came..."

He nodded with a small shrug.

"Oh Sully! No wonder you thought...good heavens..." she whispered, for the first time totally understanding the full reason, the unwitting spot her husband had put himself in – and how it had appeared to him when she didn't come. The injustice of it all!

He shook his head, reaching to touch her chin with a finger and make her look at him. "Don't worry about it. If you'd seen the letter..."

"I'd have come to you! Crawling on my hands and knees!" she declared adamantly, adding, "The night you left...did you hear me calling for you?"

He shook his head, brows furrowed.

She nodded affirmatively. "I was still angry, but I came out on the porch just as you were galloping out the back door of the barn. I called to you to stop and come back, but..."

He sighed, yet another miscommunication. "I didn't hear ya..." he supplied.

Amazed at the misfortunes they'd suffered, she whispered, "It's as if something was working against us...stacking the deck." Taking one of his hands in hers, she brought it reverently to her lips. Her eyes met his as she softly mused, "Perhaps the perfection of our love angered the unseen evil forces and they set out to tear us apart..." _And I fell for it, playing right into their hands..._

"Yeah," he whispered, drawing her head down to press his lips to her forehead for a long moment. Once again, he thought of his brother seeking him out and making him come back. _Thank God you did, Cloud Dancin'..._ _Who knows how long I woulda stayed stubbornly away..._

He settled them again, closing his eyes tiredly; very glad the terrible season in their lives was finally over.

They lay there together for quite some time, allowing their souls to reconnect, and the emotional fractures to heal. Dreading it, but wanting to have everything out in the open between them, she finally whispered, "Sully...there's something I need to tell you..."

He moved his head a bit, his lips brushing against her hair as he waited, feeling her quiver as she prepared to confess her other source of shame.

"I...I won't be able to give you any more children," she murmured softly.

His brows furrowed for a moment, thinking she was just suffering doubt, but then what she meant dawned on him and he closed his eyes, wincing slightly. Not so much for himself, but for her, as he knew how much having another child had been the desire of her heart. And now...

She went on, her voice faltering, "It happened quickly...at first...I thought I was pregnant again, but..." she paused, fighting against the old familiar angst. "Then when I realized what had begun..."

"Why didn't ya tell me?" he whispered, his heart aching for what she had suffered – in silence.

"I know...I should have, but I...I couldn't. I kept feeling...less of a woman."

He reacted immediately, turning his head to meet her eyes again. "You _know_ that ain't true..."

She nodded, "I know _now_. It's crazy, but...at the time I needed you most, I was pushing you away..."

Their eyes held as scenes from those months played in their minds. For Sully, a few more pieces of the puzzle were snapped into place, shedding light on mysteries of things she had said, and ways she had reacted to innocuous things he had said and done.

Hugging her closer and willing her to feel and understand that her admission didn't change the way he felt about her, he whispered, "We got Katie. And Brian, and Colleen, and Matthew. They'll keep our hearts full. Don't think about what we ain't got...only what we do." Smiling into her eyes tenderly, he added, "And as for the other...I told you before that I'll always find you as beautiful as I did the first time I saw ya...and I'll _never_ see ya as anything but _all_ woman," he vowed, staring into her eyes so that she could see his sincerity.

She saw it, and believed, and allowed his words and his love to flow like warm honey into the furthest reaches of her heart and cleanse away the fear and the hurt. Kissing him back as he leaned forward to seal his words with his lips on hers, she sighed tranquilly as his hand sensually stroked her skin in that special way of his that told her how much he appreciated her as his lover.

"I love you so much," she murmured softly, glorying in that feeling of floating in mid air that she felt every time he kissed her. The same sensation she'd had the first time, her birthday kiss.

"I love you _more_," he teased, feeling slightly buoyant himself.

Softly running her hand over her husband's shoulder and down his arm, Michaela's physician's fingers encountered the unmistakable ridges of a scar on his forearm she knew had not been there before. Instantly, she realized what it was, and grimaced softly as she imagined the circumstances.

Without a word, she gently grasped his wrist and brought the arm to her lips to press gentle, loving kisses to the wound. The scar was long and deep, and though now totally healed, would still be visible for the rest of his life.

Resting the arm against her cheek, with a mixture of deep sorrow and heartfelt understanding, she whispered, "Tell me..."

He opened his eyes and glanced down at her. "What, _this_?" he indicated his arm. She nodded. Though he didn't want to, he knew he couldn't and shouldn't leave anything unsaid. Communication, always...

Drawing in a deep breath, he let it out in a soft huff as he allowed his mind to return to those first terrible weeks of their separation. "It, ahh, was about a month after I left. I'd made it to Bozeman, wired Welland Smith, and went on to Yellowstone...but then I just kinda...shut down." He swallowed, whispering, "The pain of losin' ya was so bad...like every heartbreak I'd ever felt all rolled into one great big ache. One night, durin' a bad storm, I was holed up in a cave...hadn't ate or slept in days... I was desperate for some relief, so I...got up on my knees and tried to chant like Cloud Dancin'...runnin' the knife over my skin, tryin' to let the pain out...but it didn't help." He paused, remembering how he had collapsed in defeated tears, and had even prayed to the spirits and to God to just let him die. That living without Michaela and Katie was too much to bear. At the last minute, something had pulled him back from the brink and he had managed to bind the wounds, although they had bled so much it had left him severely weakened.

Michaela hugged him closer, tears sliding from the corners of her eyes and wetting Sully's chest, her heart breaking for what he'd gone through...what she had unwittingly put him through. Realizing this was further evidence of their emotional connection, she sniffled softly, whispering, "A month after you left was when I truly realized you didn't intend to come back...everything seemed to be going wrong...we had three patients die in one day at the hospital, despite our best efforts...Katie was almost run over by a wagon...Rebecca wired that her oldest son...my nephew James, remember?... he—he had been killed in an accident..." she paused, the memories difficult. "I needed you so badly...needed to feel your arms around me... That night...I couldn't take it any longer. I left Katie asleep in the house and rode into the woods, needing to feel closer to you. I...made it up to our secret place. A tiny part of me held hope you'd be there, that you had gone there like you'd told me before, to find your way...but you weren't there." She paused, swallowing tears now that she knew he had waited there for her in vain. "On my knees up there, I cried and screamed for you. I told you all the things I wanted to tell you in person...how profoundly ashamed and sorry I was...how much I loved you and wanted you to come home. I begged you to come back to me...but all I felt in return was searing pain and emptiness. My whole world was devoid of light without you."

He had wrapped his arms tighter around her, silent tears slipping down as he marveled they had, indeed, been communicating that night, though neither one knew it. The hurt had distorted their spiritual connection, but thankfully had not broken it completely.

She added softly, "Sometime before morning, it started to rain, so I dragged myself home." She tilted her head and pressed a wet cheek to his as they both allowed the pain of their tragic miscommunications to slowly release through their tears.

Eventually, the tension from the emotional upheaval lifted and they were able to fall peacefully asleep, each secure in their soul mate's arms once again.


	7. Epilogue

_A/N - I wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for your wonderful reviews of this story, signed and unsigned. You all made me very pleased. I'm so happy you enjoyed it. And now... _

**EPILOGUE**

The autumn sun shone brightly through the lace curtains of their bedroom the next morning, gently rousing the sleeping couple.

It was the first true sleep either had enjoyed in months. Slowly blinking their eyes and instantly feeling the beloved presence of their mate pressed close, they sighed simultaneously. Sully smiled and nuzzled the back of Michaela's hair. They both felt such a sense of total relief – as if the very air were cleaner and lighter.

Many tears had been shed the night before. Tears of regret, sorrow, and shame - but of healing and joy as well. Forgiveness had been begged and granted on both sides. Each knew that with the rising of the sun, a new day had begun in their relationship. The hurt from their ordeal had been healed.

"Mornin'," Sully greeted his wife, moving the hand under the covers that had cuddled a womanly part while they slept. It wandered further down her body. She moved to allow him easier access as she turned to give him a sleepy kiss.

"Good morning," she purred, her body instantly responding to his caresses.

"Think we got time for an appetizer before breakfast?" he teased, nudging his lower half closer and allowing her to feel his hunger.

"I don't know," she whispered, gently pressing a kiss to the tiny shaving scab near his chin, his morning stubble tantalizingly scratching her lips. "Our daughter is normally an early riser," she reminded.

"Mmm, so that ain't changed, huh?" he pouted, leaning in again as he was unable to resist those fetching lips.

"Mmm," she responded, quickly giving up her half-hearted resistance. _I'll never deny him again...we have so much wasted time to make up..._

However, their daughter had other plans. After a mere minute, the amorous couple heard the familiar sound of bare feet hurrying down the hall and they quickly separated, making sure the quilt covered them to their necks just as Katie reached their door and turned the knob.

Spying her beloved father in the bed with her mother, she gasped, "It _is_ true! I was afraid I'd dreamed you were home!" before rushing forward and launching herself in the middle of the big bed between her parents.

Sully laughed and commenced tickling his daughter, eliciting squeals of delighted protest.

"Ahh, well if you don't want more of that, ya better get on back ta your room and get dressed," he warned with a fond grin.

Katie nodded and made to get out of the bed, but stopped and looked back into her father's face. Those blue eyes she loved so much were gazing at her with such love, she wrapped her arms quickly around his neck and gave him a fierce hug. "I love you, Poppy! I'm so glad you're home!"

"Me too, Katie girl. Me, too," he agreed, his eyes meeting those of his beloved.

Then Katie whirled and gave her mother a quick kiss on the cheek before scrambling off the bed and out the door.

The interrupted couple watched her go and then looked back at one another.

"I'm glad she didn't wait another minute," Sully quipped, wiggling his eyebrows as Michaela giggled. _Yes, that would have been quite...awkward._

"I have a feeling we will need to reinforce the 'knock first' rule with our impetuous daughter," she smirked. "As I certainly do not want her being confronted with such a practical lesson on the joys of physical love."

Pursing his lips, Sully nodded, his eyes twinkling with joy that they would even _need_ such a rule. With a chuckle, they gave one another a quick kiss, along with murmured affirmations of love and a promise to take up where they left off as soon as possible, before slipping out of bed and dressing for the day.

Sully found it extremely difficult to keep his mind – and his hands – off of his alluring wife as she bent to gather clean underthings from the drawer in her bureau. He snaked his arms around her and, grinning like a bride on her honeymoon, she turned sveltely in his embrace.

"Oh, I've missed these arms," she hummed as he hugged her close. "So many nights I've spent wrapped in my own arms, and feeling woefully disappointed."

Sully leaned his head back, pressing her head into the curve of his neck as he enjoyed the feeling of her in his arms again. "At least it was warm weather...I know how cold you get in the bed in winter when the fire dies down durin' the night."

She closed her eyes and pressed a long kiss to the place where his pulse thumped in his neck, luxuriating in breathing in the wonderful, familiar warm scent of his skin. Oh, how she had missed that! "The nights in summer are still cool...if you spend them in the rocking chair," she admitted softly.

Opening his eyes, his lips parted in surprise and he leaned back to look into her eyes, brows furrowed.

Nodding, she leaned up to press her cheek to his, murmuring, "I spent that first night sitting by the window hoping you'd return, thinking, alternating between wanting to yell at you for leaving and wanting to grab you to me in joy when you came back. From then on...I just..." she paused with a tiny shrug. "I've always found it difficult to sleep in our bed without you by my side...keeping me warm...making me feel safe..."

Sully smiled lovingly down into her eyes and nuzzled her closer, her words warming his heart even more than did her body pressed to his. Leaning forward, he admitted in a pseudo whisper, "I'd forgotten how hard and cold the ground is in a lean-to. Don't think I got more'n an hour of sleep a night the whole time I was gone." Meeting her eyes again, he added only half teasing, "You oughtta take a buggy whip to me, you know."

She chuckled softly and shook her head. "No, because I would have to turn around and hand the whip to you, for I was equally guilty. And I can think of much better ways to spend our time together," she added mischievously.

He threw back his head and laughed delightedly. "So can I, Mrs. Sully. So can I."

OOOOOOO

Twenty minutes later, Michaela carefully maneuvered in the kitchen door with a full pail of milk as Sully turned from stacking firewood next to the kitchen hearth, having lit both downstairs fires. He hurried forward and relieved her of her burden, murmuring, "I got this."

"Pa, I can make pancakes, now, just like you like them – I've been practicing!" Katie informed her father as she proceeded to dump ingredients into a bowl and began mixing.

The parents' eyes met over the child's head. Sully raised his eyebrows in question and Michaela shrugged shyly. "I guess...we never stopped hoping..." she admitted softly, thinking of the fact that every day he that was gone, she had mentioned something about him to their daughter, striving to keep his presence active in their lives.

Their eyes held, but before Sully could say anything, Katie asked excitedly, "How many do you want, Papa?'

Without taking his eyes from Michaela's, he grinned and murmured, "I'm so hungry, I could go for a dozen and still want more." Michaela caught her lip between her teeth and blushed slightly at his double entendre.

"Wow!" the little girl exclaimed. "I can't ever eat more than three or I get full as a tick!"

"Katherine Elizabeth," Michaela fussed gently as Sully burst out laughing. "Where did you hear such an expression?"

Katie shrugged unconcernedly as she glanced over her shoulder at her mother. "I don't know, Mama...I think I heard Mr. Lawson say it."

Sully continued to chuckle, mainly at Michaela's shocked expression, but shook his head, wisely staying out of that exchange. He knew his wife would not let an opportunity for a lesson in decorum slip by. He was right.

"Well, young lady, that is _not_ something that a proper young woman should say..." Michaela began.

"Why Mama?" Katie asked innocently, turning from her task to stare at her parent. "Ticks _do_ get full, I've seen 'em, all big and fat and wobbly," she demonstrated, arms out, hands pointed down like claws as she wobbled around in a circle, to the delighted chuckle of her father. She stopped and looked to her mother again, hands on her hips. "It's the _truth_, and you always say we should always tell the truth," she reasoned.

Sully pressed his lips together, eyebrows high as he murmured, "She's gotcha there."

"Byron Sully, don't encourage her!" Michaela fussed, tossing a dishtowel in her husband's direction. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, albeit good-naturedly, as he continued to chuckle, engaging their daughter in the fun. Smiling fondly at the two loves of her life, Michaela busied herself with other parts of their meal. She was doubly glad that her husband was home, as it seemed their daughter had been seeking out the wrong kind of man for male attention of late.

"Think I'll go do the mornin' chores," Sully announced to the room at large, stepping close to give Michaela a quick kiss. "I love you," he whispered, thinking if he told her a dozen times a day for the rest of his life, it still wouldn't be enough.

She smiled in response, happily radiant. "I love _you_," she whispered back, thinking those words had never sounded sweeter than when he had said them just then.

"I love you, too, Poppy!" Katie piped up from her place at the table, energetically stirring pancake dough.

Sully chuckled. "Love you too, my pretty Kates," he replied and bent to kiss the top of her head. "You jus' keep gettin' prettier and prettier, ya know that? Before long, I'll be havin' ta make me another baseball bat, ta keep all them boys away," added with a wink.

"Aww Poppy, yuck!" Katie exclaimed with a disgusted grimace. "Boys are mean. They tease me, and pull my hair, and chase me around with garter snakes. And besides," Katie added, grinning up at him as she leaned against his side. "I'm going to stay with you and Mama forever. I'm never getting married."

Sully turned and winked at his wife, the two sharing a knowing grin that their daughter would most certainly change her mind, in due time, and when the right one came along.

As Sully made his way to the door, Katie asked expectantly, "Are you going to take me to school today, Papa?" Her thoughts had strayed to the fact that she would finally be able to give the mean boys in school 'what for', now that her dear Poppy was home again.

"You bet, Katie girl. Today, and every day, from now on," he vowed softly.

"Good!" Katie nodded, pressing her tongue to her top lip as she concentrated on getting the pancake dough just right.

Pausing, Sully turned to take one last look at his two girls who were busy with normal morning routines. It's funny how simple things can mean so much. _I wouldn't trade this for all the money in Preston's bank. There's no place in the world I'd rather be...it feels so good to be home_, he mused as he reached for his jacket - his favorite, the one with the decorations on the shoulders, which he hadn't worn in over six months. Holding it against his chest for a moment, his lips formed a tiny smile as it occurred to him that Michaela had not moved any of his belongings. It was as if he had only gone on a short trip and she was merely waiting for him to return.

He turned his head and caught her watching him, a small smile on her face showing she knew what he was thinking. _She_ was thinking how she had unconsciously avoided moving his things, as if to do so would have jinxed his return. With an answering smile, he opened the front door, and stepped out onto the porch as he shrugged into the warm buckskin.

Standing there surveying his domain, he realized he was, for the first time in months, aware of the birds singing. A soft breeze rustled the few brightly colored leaves that remained in the trees, and he could hear the far away sound of a bell ringing – the farmer's wife on the land next to theirs, calling her family to breakfast. It seemed he was keenly aware of everything around him, as if he were emerging from a dense fog. Indeed, a suffocating emotional blanket.

The crisp autumn morning air invigorated his nostrils as he sucked in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the wonderful scent of his land and his home as he stretched his arms up over his head. At that moment, he felt on top of the world.

_It sure is good to be home. _He repeated as he jogged down the steps toward the barn, anxious to complete the chores and get back inside to partake of breakfast with his two ladies.

It was the first day of the rest of their lives, and he intended to make every day, from then on, the very best they could be – and to never take even _one_ of those days for granted.

And he kept that promise.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

_Harsh words...misunderstandings...we should all make every effort to treat one another with kindness. _

_No love is strong enough to weather the storms of life without communication. _

_That's what was so good about Michaela and Sully on the show – they always talked things out._

**~~THE END~~**


End file.
